


Imperfection / Perfection

by carmenita



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Gen, Hurt!Caroline, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:52:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmenita/pseuds/carmenita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus was the first man who managed to make her forget about her imperfection. He was the first who made her feel happy.<br/>There is so much angst in this story. And it's unbetad (so sorry about that).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imperfection / Perfection

I was never perfect. I used to look in the mirror and see a girl with way too pale skin, way too big arms and way too depressed eyes. Nobody likes these types of girls – the ones who never laughs and try to look smaller and smaller even if it was impossible.

No one likes those girls.

That’s the reason I usually faked. Every morning I walk down the streets, smile at people, ignore their questioning look and move on. Meet my friends who like my jokes which, who saw me smiling but never crying. I’m the ideal friend – I listen to everyone, give advice but never complain. I’m the girl who is always happy. End of story.

But they never see me when I get home. Never see what I do when I’m alone. Because when I’m all alone at home, I look in the mirror and see myself. See who I really am. 

And it’s not perfect, not even nice. I’m an ugly clown with an unbreakable mask. Hundred percent protection from the real world.

It only changed for a month when he came to see me on my birthday. I don’t even remember much – I was lying in my bed, thinking about dying; thinking about the irony of dying as the main character of a tragedy - by the hands, or in this case teeth, of the heroic lover. Lover. What an interesting term to describe Tyler. He was my boyfriend, someone who I was supposed to trust; someone who tried to reach me but never succeeded. 

The next thing I clearly remember is that Klaus came to my room and pulled away my blanket to take a look at my neck. I thought he came to finish what Tyler started. But he gave me two choices: live or die. At the very first moment I wanted him to kill me since there’s nothing in this world for me. However he started to talk about his own life, the times he wanted to give up just like me and the recognition that life is beautiful. I imagined what he said and as he said it was genuine beauty. I chose to live. Then he pulled me in his arms and fed me with his blood. 

I felt something positive for the second time in my life. The first time it happened when I was bitten; back then I thought “finally” and felt satisfaction. Now? Now I felt happiness because I realized, Klaus is similar to me. We share something and suddenly I didn’t feel so alone. Maybe he could accept me without my mask, with my imperfection. 

Maybe he could teach me how to love both him and me. I felt hope rising within me and this is what made me smile, really smile.

“Thank you.” I said later when I got back to bed. He just smiled at me and left.

When I woke up I felt much better both inside and outside. I decided on covering my mirrors because they would show me the old, depressing me. Although no one noticed how much I changed, I felt it. How funny! I felt something apart from the mixture of agony and emptiness. This was definitely extraordinary. And even though I didn’t see Klaus for almost a month, the happiness remained with me.

It happened when I next met him. It was a carnival in Mystic Falls thus they held a ball because our mayor felt the need to celebrate that there were no vampire attacks. I thought Klaus would appear thus I decided on wearing a brand new dress for the ball. I even asked mum to do my face since I still refused to look in the mirror. Since I wanted to meet with Klaus I didn’t ask anyone to come with me, I just suggested that we would meet there. 

Still I didn’t see him half the night. Actually I almost went home when I recognized him in the crowd. He was by himself, drinking whiskey and looking in my direction.  
I didn’t even have time to set my clothes and my hair when he reached me.

“May I ask you for a dance?” He asked with that sweet British accent which made my heart beat faster. 

“Yes.”

We only danced for a minute or two when I realized he didn’t look at me.

“Is there any problem?”

“Let’s forget about it.” He answered and I couldn’t interpret what he said.

“About what?” I asked but I felt that darkness slowly embraces my heart. 

“About that night.”

“Why?” It was the first time in my life I asked for a reason. For an explanation. I couldn’t accept that fact that he wants me to forget the night when I escaped from darkness. 

“You can’t belong to me. You’re too different from me.” He smiled and waited for a few seconds before he let go of my waist and stepped back. “Thanks for the dance, my genuine beauty.” He smiled at me and left without looking back.

I didn’t feel anything at first. Then I felt too much. He was joking with me, his last words betrayed him. 

“No.” I whispered as I realized, people were watching me with their old, questioning look. “No.” I repeated before leaving the room in a hurry. I had to go home before my mask falls apart. 

I started to run in order to leave everything behind: the people, the dance, and the happiness I felt. I didn’t care anymore what others may think, I ran as fast as I could in order to get home. Thus I found myself there within a minute. Fortunately my mum wasn’t there, so I could be myself without drawing her unnecessary attention. 

I ran up to my room and ripped off the newspapers which hid my only friends, the mirrors. Finally I could take a look at me – my pale skin, my huge arms and legs and body in general and my empty eyes. Because these are the only things left for me: my imperfect body, my broken mask and my only alliances, the mirrors.

Here I am, still watching myself in the mirror. I am ugly and I no longer make efforts to make people believe that I’m alright. I walk by people without looking them, ignoring my friends because they are strangers to me. I’m trying not to forget about the fact that I will die soon. I just need to find someone who willingly stake me in my heart and then chop my head. I will be a perfect dead without my imperfect soul.


End file.
